Losing Dog Shen Qingshuang

Shen Qingshuang’s entire body trembled.

She raised her head and looked at Ye Xuan’s cold, emotionless face, then at the urging expression on Ye Jiuhuang’s face. Her heart was filled with a turmoil of emotions.

Eight thousand years of waiting, eight thousand years of hope—and in the end, all she had gained was the status of a “bedchamber maid”?

To her, this humiliation was even worse than death!

“A bedchamber maid…” Shen Qingshuang’s voice was hoarse and filled with sorrow. “What a fine bedchamber maid… Ye Jiuhuang, you truly are… truly ruthless to the extreme…”

Despair flickered in her eyes as tears streamed down her face. “I, Shen Qingshuang, must have been blind to fall for you in this life. I preserved my chastity for you for eight thousand years, yet you treated me like some piece of merchandise and casually handed me over to another man! You—you’re utterly… deranged!”

“How dare you!” Ye Jiuhuang flew into a rage. Sword qi instantly surged around her in a frenzy. “Shen Qingshuang, how dare you insult me!”

A murderous chill flashed through her eyes, and she raised her hand, preparing to strike Shen Qingshuang again.

“That’s enough.”

Ye Xuan uttered those two words lightly. His voice was calm, yet carried an unquestionable authority.

Ye Jiuhuang’s hand froze in midair. She hurriedly lowered it and respectfully stepped behind Ye Xuan. “Yes, husband.”

Ye Xuan walked slowly toward Shen Qingshuang and looked down at her from above.

Shen Qingshuang raised her head. Her reddened eyes were filled with pain and unwillingness.

She stared fiercely at Ye Xuan, her voice trembling. “Ye Xuan… what exactly do you want? I have no grudge against you. Why did you take my husband away? Why did you let her humiliate me like this?”

Ye Xuan stood with his hands behind his back and looked at her indifferently. “Shen Qingshuang, I don’t care what entanglements existed between you and Ye Jiuhuang in the past. From today onward, you are Ye Jiuhuang’s maid, which means you are also my maid. If you behave yourself, I naturally won’t mistreat you. But if you cause trouble again, I have no objection to sending you down to keep the three women imprisoned in the dungeon company.”

Shen Qingshuang’s entire body trembled.

She naturally knew who those three women were—the three peerless female demonesses who had once shaken the heavens: Ye Qingcheng, Zi Yao, and Xia Lengyue!

Even they had been subdued completely by Ye Xuan. As for Shen Qingshuang, a mere early-stage Mahayana cultivator, what kind of waves could she possibly make?

A bitter smile appeared at the corners of Shen Qingshuang’s lips.

She knew she had no choice left.

After remaining silent for a long while, Shen Qingshuang finally lowered her head. Her voice was hoarse and exhausted. “Shen Qingshuang… accepts the order.”

“If you’re going to offer thanks, then at least look sincere,” Ye Jiuhuang said coldly. “Speak louder so my husband can hear you!”

Shen Qingshuang’s entire body trembled, and tears of humiliation burst from her eyes.

She clenched her teeth and forced herself to speak, her voice hoarse and shaking. “Shen Qingshuang… thanks my husband for his grace… I am willing to serve my husband to the best of my ability…”

By the end, her voice had become so faint that it was nearly inaudible. Yet the humiliation and resentment in her words seemed almost tangible as they filled the hall.

“Very good.” Ye Xuan nodded lightly. “Ying’er, arrange a place for her to stay. Starting tomorrow, she will be responsible for attending to Ye Jiuhuang’s daily needs. If Ye Jiuhuang finds herself short of a servant, hold Shen Qingshuang accountable.”

“Yes, husband,” Ying’er replied obediently.

She then stepped forward. Her gaze held a trace of sympathy, though it was mixed with a hint of coldness. “Miss Shen, come with me. From now on, you are a maid of the Sword God Palace. You should know what a maid ought to do—and what she ought not to do.”

Shen Qingshuang said nothing.

She merely rose in silence and tidied her disheveled clothes and loosened hair. Her movements were light and slow, like those of a puppet that had lost its soul.

She slowly turned around and walked toward the entrance of the main hall.

When she reached the doorway, she suddenly stopped.

Without turning around, she said hoarsely, “Ye Jiuhuang… I hate you.”

With that, she staggered away and disappeared into the night.

Ye Jiuhuang watched her departing figure with an indifferent expression, as though she were merely looking at an irrelevant stranger.

“Husband,” Ye Jiuhuang said as she turned around, a docile and obedient smile once again appearing on her face. “That woman has been dealt with. Where shall we go next?”

Ye Xuan pondered for a moment, a complicated look flashing through his eyes.

“Bai Qianqiu,” he said slowly. “Is she still in seclusion?”

Ye Jiuhuang nodded, her expression also becoming complicated. “Yes. Qianqiu has entered a death seclusion. Before she secluded herself… she kept hoping that she would get to see you again, husband.”

Ye Xuan fell silent.

His gaze flickered slightly, as though he were recalling events from the distant past.

“Take me to see her,” Ye Xuan said with a soft sigh. “No matter what… she is still your disciple.”

“Yes, husband,” Ye Jiuhuang replied obediently.

The Sword God Palace, the forbidden grounds of the rear mountain.

This was the most secret place in the entire Sword God Palace. Layer upon layer of restrictions and barriers surrounded it.

Ordinary disciples—even inner-court elders—would never dare set foot there without the Palace Master’s order.

Because this was where Bai Qianqiu had entered seclusion.

Ye Xuan and the others passed through the layers of restrictions and arrived at the deepest part of the rear mountain.

Amidst the vast expanse of white snow stood a crystal-clear ice coffin.

The coffin had been carved entirely from ten-thousand-year profound ice and stood nearly three zhang tall. Dense, ancient runes were engraved across its surface, radiating a terrifying pressure that seemed capable of suppressing heaven and earth.

Within the ice coffin, a white figure floated silently.

It was a woman.

She wore a snow-white palace gown, while three thousand strands of silver hair cascaded behind her like a waterfall. Her beauty was clear and peerless, with brows like distant mountains and lips like the tips of cherry blossoms.

Her skin was as fair as jade, faintly glowing with a soft radiance, making her seem like a celestial maiden who had descended from the Moon Palace.

Her eyes were tightly shut, and countless fragments of the Laws of the Great Dao swirled around her.

Those fragments resembled countless luminous snakes, constantly burrowing into her body before emerging again, forming one profound cycle after another.

“Qianqiu…” Ye Jiuhuang gazed at her disciple inside the ice coffin, a complicated light flashing through her beautiful eyes.

“Husband, Qianqiu… has actually missed you very much.”

Ye Xuan said nothing.

He simply stood quietly before the ice coffin, looking at the figure floating silently within.

Bai Qianqiu’s face was serene, as though she were merely asleep.

Her breathing was extraordinarily slow and deep. With every breath she took, the spiritual energy around her surged violently.

Ye Xuan knew that Bai Qianqiu was not far from breaking through.

“Qianqiu…” Ye Xuan let out a soft sigh, his voice low and filled with complicated emotions.

He still did not know what attitude he should take toward her.

“Husband…”

Ye Jiuhuang seemed to see his hesitation and spoke softly. “Qianqiu is actually a very good woman. She may be cold by nature, but she has a kind heart, and her feelings for you are completely sincere. Once she emerges from seclusion, I will have her marry you. She has been my disciple for so many years. It is time she found a good home.”

“You’re certainly generous,” Ye Xuan said, glancing at her with an amused yet inscrutable smile.

Ye Jiuhuang quickly lowered her head. “Everything Jiuhuang has belongs to my husband. If you like her, then let alone one disciple—even ten or eight, Jiuhuang wouldn’t bat an eye.”

Ye Xuan said nothing more.

He simply gazed at Bai Qianqiu in the ice coffin, a complicated glimmer flashing through his eyes.

Inside the ice coffin, Bai Qianqiu seemed to sense something.

Her brows shifted slightly, and her eyelashes trembled faintly, as if she might awaken at any moment. In the end, however, she still did not open her eyes.

“Let’s go,” Ye Xuan said, turning around. “Let her cultivate in peace. Don’t disturb her.”

“Yes, husband.” Ye Jiuhuang nodded obediently.